Reflections of Life---My High School Years

It is the summer of 1973 and my years at St. Agnes School has ended. They had a formal moving up ceremony. Mom and I went to one of the bridal salons to pick out a gown for me. I chose a light blue with a lace overlay and long sleeves. It was a nice ceremony. It was a time for reflections back then as well. Things happened that were a little monumental, such as Father Fred becoming sort of an icon at the school. He was young and vibrant, with blue eyes and a bit of a rebel. He had started a folk mass with Sr. Katherine. Every Sunday at the 11:00 mass, we had a lively service. Sadly, that year, he was chosen to go to another parish. Another one of our priests had decided that his "calling" would be better suited as a private citizen. He resigned as a priest and soon him and one of our nuns (she had not taken her final vows), decided to get married. That left Mnsgr. Willenburg to head the parish.

Once I left St. Agnes, it was like an empty place in my heart. I know I would miss Sr. Michael Joseph. She was an ornary woman, but she had a heart of gold. I would always remember her. Some of the girls I met there, were, how should I put it, stuck on themselves. They did believe that they were better than anyone else, except for Kelli. As I mentioned, every school should have had a girl like Kelli.

I had orientation that summer at the High School. My new High School, T. R. Proctor High School was situated in the upper East End of my hometown. It was in walking distance from my house and back in 1973, you walked to school. If it rained or snowed, you still walked to school. As I walked into the front doors of this school, a new world opened up before me. Within minutes I was greeted by a voice over the loudspeaker telling us to report to the auditorium. I really did not know anyone there. Most of the kids I met at St. Agnes were going to private schools, such as St. Francis and Notre Dame. Those schools supposedly had a high reputation for College applications. My parents could not afford a private school, and I did not have a problem with that.

At orientation, we were given a tour of the school. To me the school resembled the city schools of New York City. It was red brick on the exterior and the interior was one of bland white tile and dark hard wood. Desks were just chairs with a table jutted out from them. Classes were large, about 25-30 per class. My graduating class would total approximately 450 students.

I was given a locker, a gym locker and the most important item, my schedule. My classes began at 8:50 in the morning and did not end until 3:00 in the afternoon.

September, 1973 rolled around and I was a both scared and excited for this was the beginning of a new phase in my life. That first day was overwhelming. I had all I could do not to cry and run home to safety. There were so many walks of life there: blacks, whites, hispanics. I was in awe and somewhat afraid. You see, my parents did not expose me or my sister to this environment. We remained within our ethnic group and when we got to High School, it was culture shock.

As the year went on, I made some wonderful friends. They were from all walks of life and I learned so much from them. I had met a girl, her name was Marta and she was of spanish decent. Before I could have her over, I had to ask my parents and let them know of her background. You see, back then, prejudice ran rampant, and where I lived, the other racial groups seemed to live away from us and it would be natural at that time, to cause a "stir". Well, Marta was accepted into our family and she had many meals with us and I with her family. I began though had not sensed it, that my parents were also beginning to grow.

My freshman year seemed to end pretty quickly. I managed to pass all my classes and it was on to my second year of High School.

I was now an upper classman. I felt more at home at the school and during my sophmore year I joined the library club. Yes true to form, I was a true geek back then. I did not enjoy sports, nor did I have the gumption to try out for the debate team. Although when I look back, I should have because I have such out spoken opinions now.

The Library Club met once a week after school in the school's library. Our library looked like a college one. It was two floors, with reference books on the second floor along with the multi media. The floors were divided by a grand spiral staircase and the library walls were all glass. Every nook and crook of the library you were able to see either out into the hallway or look out either at the parking lot or the football field.

This is where I met Beth W. She became my best friend and remained my best friend all through High School. Beth and I were always together. I would leave my house a little earlier in the morning and walk to her house and from there we would walk to school. She was a pretty girl. Beth had blonde hair and blue eyes, nice figure and she was the only child. Her mom was divorced from her dad and she lived with her mom and grandmother. She spent many nights at my house and vice versa. We shared our deepest secrets with each other. We complimented each other in that she was street smart and I was book smart. If we were not together, we were on the phone for hours. Boy, did my mom hate that. I would be on the phone for hours.

Beth was there when I got my license in the last half of my sophmore year. We celebrated by me taking the car out just to go to the drug store.

Getting my license that year proved to be more freedom for me as well as my parents. I was able to look for a job. That also was a high point. When I was sixteen, I possessed the attitude of the time, that I wanted to be "independent" from my parents. I wanted to get a job on my own and not because my parents knew someone. I also felt that I was too old to have a birthday party. That was a decision that I regret to this day.

My father saw me struggling to land a job. He knew that I wanted to earn some money, so he told me about one of his friend's wives. Her name was Nancy and she was the Assistant Manager of a card store at the mall. He made the appointment for me to see her. I met with her and the manager, Marion and another associate, Connie. It was my first interview and I had no idea what to expect, but by the time it was over, I was hired for Cards 'n' Such store. I was to work every Tuesday and Thursday night from 5 p.m until 9 p.m and every other weekend. I worked all the holidays. I would take care of the cash register and the greeting cards when Connie was not there. The mall traffic was always a little slow, but we kept busy. I enjoyed keeping the store neat and clean and the best part was the customers. On my break I would wander the mall, looking into such stores as Howland's, Montgomery Ward, Spencer's, Wilson Leather and of course the Pet Store. Christmas was the best time up at the mall. The decorations were abundant and our store was located in the center court which had a fountain which was replaced by Santa's workshop during the holidays. There were comings and goings every day up until Christmas Eve. I met some new friends there. I would walk up to a store called Pot Pourri which had stuff animals, incense, candles, and in the back and over the counter, yes they hung bongs. That was a big thing back in the day. It was not illegal to sell them, only if you got caught with the product that was not legal.

I found myself changing through this experience. I loved working and I wanted to work more. With this in mind, I decided to take on another job at the mall. It was at a little pretzel stand. On the days that I did not work at the card shop, I would work there. It was run by a woman, who I will call Mrs. D and her daughter Vicki also worked there. I came to find out that Vicki also went to my High School. She was a very beautiful girl, sassy and she had a boyfriend. I was quite astonished. This was my first encounter with anyone who had a relationship with the opposite sex. I tried to emulate her in the way that I dressed and the way that I spoke, however, it did not suit me. Vicki had problems at home. Her brother was using drugs and she had admitted that she had dabbled a bit with marijuana. To me, a sixteen year old, who had a strict upbringing, this was entirely new and different for me.

As my sophmore year came to a close, I found myself working a lot at the mall and trying desperately to find myself. I kept asking myself, who am I and what do I want to do with the rest of my life? What I did know is that I wanted to leave my house after I graduated from high school and move away. Beth and I talked about moving out to Malibu, California. We went so far as to obtain prices on apartments and had newspapers sent to us. We envisioned ourselves in a two bedroom loft on the beach, Beth working as an editor and me as a nurse. Oh the dreams we had back then.